Monday, February 1, 2010

Hurdles

8/10/2009:

Standing against the tide,
Raining down on me,
I stand alone.
My stance was weak,
But flowing through miracles,
It turned upright.
As the tide grew harsher,
And it rained cannonballs,
That lonely soul,
Almost at surrender,
Standing at the edge of decayed hope,
Just became stronger.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

hey i never knew you wrote.
don't know much about poetry but i like this one.